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connor misses an easy shot at the end. the puck hits the post and rattles away. frank skates past him, smirking.
“that’s the third time today,” he says.
connor rolls his eyes. “you keeping count?”
“obviously. someone has to.” frank flips his stick and grins. “i won. milkshakes tonight.”
connor laughs. “you’re obsessed with milkshakes.”
“no,” frank says, still smiling. “i’m obsessed with seeing you try to pretend you don’t love them.”
connor shakes his head, cheeks warm. “you just want an excuse to make me drive you somewhere.”
“maybe,” frank says, skating backward. “and maybe i just want an excuse to spend more time with you.”
connor doesn’t answer, but his heart feels a little louder than usual.
⸻
they end up at the diner near the rink again, same booth by the window, same neon buzz through the glass. frank sits across from him, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, hair still damp.
the waitress smiles when she sees them. “two shakes again?”
“yeah,” frank says quickly. “chocolate peanut butter for me, vanilla for him.”
connor lifts a brow. “you could let me order.”
“why? i already know what you want.”
“that’s kind of creepy.”
“it’s cute,” frank says, leaning on his elbow.
connor blushes, looking down at his menu even though he doesn’t need it. “you call everything i do cute.”
“that’s because everything you do is.”
the milkshakes arrive a few minutes later, thick and sweet, whipped cream melting around the edges. connor takes a small sip, and frank’s eyes follow the straw all the way back to his mouth.
“what,” connor says, laughing.
“nothing,” frank says softly. “you just look happy.”
“you make me happy,” connor says before thinking.
the words hang there between them, warm and unhurried. frank doesn’t joke or tease this time. he just smiles. “good,” he says. “because you do the same for me.”
⸻
they talk for a long time, heads bent close across the table. frank tells a story about his first road trip in the minors, about how he got lost in a parking garage for forty minutes. connor laughs so hard he nearly spills his shake. frank watches him like he’s memorizing every sound.
at some point, frank reaches across the table, palm up. connor looks at him for a second, then slides his hand into his. their fingers fit easily, resting against the cool tabletop.
“you’re so warm,” frank murmurs.
“you’re always cold,” connor says.
“that’s why we work,” frank replies, smiling.
⸻
when the milkshakes are mostly gone, frank steals the last sip of connor’s.
“hey,” connor says, pretending to pout.
frank leans back. “you were done.”
“i wasn’t.”
“you are now,” frank says, holding the glass out of reach.
connor leans across the table to grab it. frank keeps it high, teasing, and then, when connor’s close enough, kisses him instead.
it’s quick and soft, more like a quiet question than an answer.
connor stays still for a second, eyes wide, then smiles against frank’s mouth. “you could’ve just asked for a kiss.”
“where’s the fun in that?” frank murmurs.
they both laugh, the kind that makes the world smaller and safer all at once.
⸻
the air outside is cold and smells like rain. frank walks close beside him, their shoulders brushing with every step.
“you’re driving again,” frank says.
“you never offer.”
“you like driving,” frank says, bumping his arm gently.
“you just like watching me.”
“that too.”
they stop by the cars, their breath misting in the light.
frank tugs the edge of connor’s sleeve. “you’re coming over after this, right?”
connor nods. “if you make popcorn.”
“deal.”
“and you let me pick the movie.”
“we both know you’ll fall asleep halfway through.”
connor grins. “then you can carry me to bed.”
“gladly,” frank says.
they stand there for a moment, hands finding each other again, the whole city quiet around them. frank leans in and kisses him one more time, slower this time, full of warmth and vanilla.
“same time tomorrow?” he asks softly.
connor nods, smiling into his chest. “only if you plan on losing.”
“never,” frank whispers. “but i’ll let you think i did.”
they part reluctantly, but frank looks back once before he gets into his car.
connor waves, heart steady and bright.
he already knows tomorrow will end the same way, two milkshakes, one shared booth, and frank smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the room worth looking at.
and honestly, he doesn’t mind at all.